What Trying Fisting Taught Me About My Body And My Sexual Preferences

The sexual practice known as fisting, which involves inserting a whole hand into the vagina or butt, had always seemed like a punchline to me, a word you might see played in Cards Against Humanity that causes everyone to burst into uproarious laughter. Once, when I went to a truck stop sex toy store, I was by far the most amused by the large rubber arms with hands clenched into fists. Why would anyone buy this? I thought. I wondered if there were people who really got into fisting each other, or if it was more of a specialty practice that only delighted a small percentage of people.

I turned to Google to find more, but my searches weren't very fruitful. A search for “fisting” returned a boatload of porn (which you bet I watched), but no concrete information on the practice. I witnessed anal fisting, vaginal fisting, DOUBLE fisting. I even saw a video where a woman was anally fisted so deeply that you could see the person’s hand moving around beneath her stomach — and she appeared to absolutely love it. How?! My guts churned. It looked so bizarre to see a human hand buried deep inside of someone else’s body.

But the more I thought about it, the more I was inclined to try it out myself. After all, I'm sexually adventurous and a self-proclaimed size queen, and have always fancied playing with larger toys. Was this really all that different? I love larger toys because of how intensely they stretch and press against my G-spot. I’ve always had a hard time targeting my G-spot with smaller toys and fingers, but when something fills me up entirely, it’s impossible for it to NOT be touching and targeting my G-spot. It was settled, I was going to give this a shot.

The next time I hopped in bed to masturbate, I decided to see how far in my hand would go. I lubed up like crazy, and prepped myself by using some larger toys before I made my attempt. I quickly ditched the dildo, eager to experiment, but quickly found that I couldn’t get my hand in past my knuckles. Maybe it was the angle. Maybe my hand was just too big. I quickly gave up.

I had no intention of revisiting fisting, but it always lingered in the back of my head as a subject I needed to learn more about. Then, one of my favorite sex ed podcasts, Sex Nerd Sandra, chose to cover the subject, and I realized that I had been doing it wrong. Instead of “fisting,” I’d been “punching.” Punching is much more difficult and intense, and involves literally shoving a fist inside of an orifice. Fisting, on the other hand, begins with the hand in the “silent duck” position (a name which I absolutely love), which creates a tapered shape that allows you to ease the hand in. Once inside, the hand can either stay in silent duck, or curl into a fist.

A few weeks later, I was invited to my very first sex party. It took place at a private mansion in Harlem, and the party was packed with gorgeous people who all seemed to know each other. For the first couple hours of the party, I sat off to the side watching all the action go down. It wasn’t until I began talking to a very down-to-earth couple, Andrea and Mike, that I began to feel more at ease with my surroundings.

I had brought a huge bag of sex toys with me, and I found myself doing a bit of show and tell with the two of them and the toys. When I brought out one of my large dildos, Andrea’s eyes lit up. “It’s so big! That must feel so lovely.” I offered to let her use any of my toys, as long as she put a condom on them so that we didn’t swap any fluids. She was more than happy to oblige, but asked me if I could be the one to use the toys on her since I was a toy expert. Why not, right? Mike didn’t mind at all and casually sat to the side with an eager grin on his face.

It was my first time ever interacting with a vulva, as well as my first time playing with a couple. Little did I know, it was also about to be my first successful experience with fisting. “This toy is so big, it’s almost like getting fisted!” She remarked. I mentioned that I’d always wondered what fisting was like, and she immediately perked up. “Go for it, seriously! I’ve always been curious as well.” Just like that, we reset and prepared for me to fist her. Mike chuckled and patted my back, amused by how quickly Andrea and I were getting down to business.

The mood was surprisingly casual, as though we were conducting ordinary research or experimenting with cake recipes. Somehow, none of us were nervous. I pulled on a nitrile glove for safety and cleanliness, and liberally applied a water based anal lubricant to her pussy as well as my hand. I prepared my silent duck-hand, ready to take the plunge. I inserted my fingers, and then at the knuckles, I paused. “Does this hurt?” I asked. She was holding in laughter, totally amazed by what was happening, and nodded me onward. Then, I slowly twisted my hand as though I was juicing a lemon, while ever so gently pushing in.

Suddenly, my hand just popped inside of her. I’d made it past the knuckles, and now all I could see of my hand was the very bottom of my palm. I swiveled it around and knocked my hand upwards towards her G-spot. She enjoyed it, but after a few minutes, the novelty wore off. “OK, your turn!” She popped on a glove and showed me how small her hands are. “This is going to be easy for you, look at these little things!” She was being so adorable. It was like I’d just given her a back massage and now she was returning the favor… except it wasn’t a massage — we were vaginally fisting each other.

She was right, her hand was so small that it slid in with very little effort. Whoa! It was so strange to have a hand inside of me. It didn’t hurt, but it was also not a sensation I was used to so I had a hard time finding it pleasurable. After all, a hand is not a dildo, and her fist felt somewhat bony and rigid compared the the silicone dildos I was used to. It just felt… interesting.

I was honestly quite surprised that I wasn’t that into it. After a few minutes, I told her to rest. She pulled her hand out, and we both giggled and shook our heads. Neither of us found it very pleasurable, but we both thought what we’d done was incredibly cool and eye-opening. “To fisting!” I said as we high-fived each other.

I haven’t given or received fisting since that party, but I still keep in touch with the girl that took my fisting virginity. Any girl who will fist a total stranger is pretty cool in my book. While it’s definitely not a thing I love, I’m pretty sure I get why people are into it. It wasn’t the sensation of fullness that turned me off — I enjoyed that part — but I’m not so much into the sensation of knuckles inside of me. It’s definitely no ordinary sex act, and requires a lot of trust (if you’re doing it with a partner) and body awareness in order to make it work. There’s also a lot of potential to tear or injure the vaginal or anal canal, but when it’s done correctly it’s a brilliantly intense experience.

So, do I recommend fisting? My advice is that if it piques your curiosity, find a friend with a small hand for starters. One thing’s for sure, I no longer see it as a punchline and think of it as a very legitimate way that some people get intimate.